


Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?

by Sashataakheru



Series: Bloody Valentine Werewolf AU [5]
Category: The Move RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves, Angst, Community: au_bingo, Dealing With Trauma, Gen, Suicide, alternate universe - transgender, descriptions of violence, dog/werewolf attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, upon discovering his father is actually still alive, Bev Bevan sets out to find him, and tells his side of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/269224">Bloody Valentine</a> story. First person POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'werewolves' for AU bingo. [My card.](http://3evilmuses.dreamwidth.org/41597.html)

I never thought I'd ever see him again. He was supposed to be dead. He died. We buried him and everything. I've spent the last fifteen years trying to get over that. It wasn't easy. Maybe if we'd just been an ordinary family, it might've been easier, but I come from a long line of hereditary werewolves on both sides of the family. I grew up knowing this, and knowing it would one day be my fate to transform once the moon rose and roam about the wilderness. I was prepared for it once I was old enough to comprehend it and I learnt to keep silent about it.

It was a dog attack, but there wasn't anything left to bury. It's hard to explain this to ordinary people without them asking questions. We made up another story instead, one that was easier to accept. It didn't actually make it any easier, of course. He still wasn't there. I still had to lie about what happened. But for a while, I felt normal, just like everyone else.

I was always aware of the wolf inside me. We've grown up together, sharing the same body. She's learnt everything I've learnt. She's been a strange presence and I'm still not quite sure where I end and she begins, assuming that is the kind of division that can be made between me and her. Sometimes I think we are the same, that there is just me. Sometimes she is so separate from me it hurts.

It's very strange to grow up this way. Strange, yet completely normal. My parents had gone through this, and they prepared me for what I would experience as I got older. I didn't experience the sort of things normal kids experience, and that was hard. I remember the growing aggression I felt as I neared puberty, as well as the partial transformations. I missed a lot of school because of those, but mum did her best to make up for it. But my dad never saw those. He never saw me transform. He died, and something in me changed. Changed? Did it change, or was it always there but I didn't even notice?

Have I have always been like this, or is it still just a reaction to my father's death? I still don't really know the answer to that. But his death was the trigger that made me stop living like a girl and reinvent myself as a boy. Being a girl hadn't really bothered me for most of my life. I'd run around and done what I liked. I never cared at all. But with dad gone, someone had to look after mum, and I decided only I would do. Only I could do that. It was my responsibility now. I didn't want another father. He would never be my real dad, even if he was another werewolf. Werewolves can be really touchy about bloodkin, and I doubt my wolf would have ever accepted someone else as a father figure. I was old enough to comprehend that, and maybe because I was all my mum had left, she didn't even fight me over it. She hugged me and said she'd do everything she could to support me. Maybe she realised we were all we had. We just had each other.

I still don't think she really understands it. To be honest, neither do I. I don't know why I like living this way. But I'm happy living as a man. I always felt I could protect my mum that way, and that mattered, you know? It mattered to me anyway. Werewolves are quite capable of looking after themselves, but I knew that if our secret ever got out, I'd be the one who'd have to get us out of there. I knew enough back then to understand that a woman would never be able to do that. I grew up in a world where men are the protectors. I have too many secrets to rattle cages as a woman who acts like a man. I can't protect my mum that way, and that's the most important thing. She's all I have left.

In any case, I don't look much like a girl anymore, even if I wanted to live that way. I have a weird suspicion it's the wolf's doing; she can affect my body in strange ways. I've always healed very fast, even as a human, and I have great stamina and athletic ability. I just didn't expect that would ever turn out to masculinise me. I never developed breasts, for instance, not girl ones anyway. I'm still a girl between my legs, but that's about the only thing that says so. The rest of me is much more androgynous. I never tell anyone about this though. It's no one's business, and I have no explanation anyway. It'd be too hard, without having to reveal I'm a werewolf as well. So I keep my secrets so no one finds out, to protect me and my mum.

But I don't even have my mum now. Everything just went wrong. Charlie fucked everything up like the stupid lone wolf he is, and I had to leave. We had to leave. I should've left him there, I should've left that traitor Charlie to the dogs, but I'm not a monster and even if he deserved it, I saved him anyway. I'm not a bastard. I don't kill for no good reason. I don't leave someone to die. It's not how I was brought up.

It was dogs again. Bloody dogs attacked us, just like they'd attacked my dad. I'd dreaded that day for so many years, that the same thing would happen to me if I wasn't careful. Wolves and dogs don't get along. I don't know why, but they can be used to attack us. I still haven't stopped dreaming of that night. The blood, the violence- It's too awful for words. Trust me, you don't want to know.

Only Ace, Charlie and I survived. We'd lost Roy and Trevor. For a long time, for two long years, we believed they were dead. We hadn't found their bodies, just like we hadn't found my dad's body. What other explanation than that they'd died, killed by the pack of dogs that attacked us? I was so angry at the dogs for killing them. It probably wasn't their fault, though. They're just running on instinct. But it still hurts.

The day we knew Roy and Trev might not actually be dead was when we saw some transformed werewolves with thick collars around their necks pulling a sled down near Tintern Abby. That it wasn't the full moon made us realise how dangerous it could be. Forced permanent transformations wasn't a comforting discovery. We vowed to track them down and rescue them. But as we looked into the Abbey and who might be hunting werewolves, I found my father. He'd been trapped just like Roy and Trev had been, but he'd escaped. I freed him from the collar keeping him as a werewolf. It was only when we'd talked a bit that I realised it was him. But he didn't recognise me at all.

It's funny. I'd never honestly prepared for it. I never thought he'd be alive, that I'd ever see him again. I'd accepted that he was dead, that he wasn't coming back. His part in my life was over and I'd moved past that. But I sat there, looking at him, and it was as if he'd never left me. I swear he hadn't changed at all from my memory of him. His voice sounded the same. He looked the same. It was different for me though. I knew I'd grown up, I'd changed a lot since he last saw me, but I thought he might still recognise me. I haven't changed that much, have I?

But as much as I tried to make him believe me, as I reminded him of who he was, he couldn't see me. I left feeling incredibly hurt and confused. Angry. Conflicted. I'd been away so long I was sure mum thought I was dead too. How could I go home then? But all I wanted was to be with her. I wanted to run home and tell her I was alive and never leave her side. That was the only thing I wanted to do that night. I wasn't sure telling her about dad would do any good though. We'd both had our time to grieve. I wasn't sure telling her he was still alive was worth it. I thought she'd be as upset as I was.

Five days later, Ace died. He killed himself. We found him in the attic that morning. He was just lying there as if he was asleep. He looked more peaceful than I'd seen him in the past two years. I felt so sorry for what had been done to him. So angry. It really didn't help. I didn't need that grief on top of what I was already going through, I really didn't. I'm still not sure how I didn't fall apart.

I hated Charlie though, for a good few days. Charlie gave him that curse, left him with horrible scars all over him and everything. I still don't think he'd have taken his own life if he hadn't been cursed. If he hadn't been a werewolf like us. He wasn't strong enough to handle it, and it destroyed him. I attacked Charlie the next full moon out of grief and anger. He'd killed someone I cared about, attacked _my friends_ , and that wasn't acceptable. It was all just too much at that moment. I couldn't stand to look at him for what he'd done.

But lone wolves get it so much worse than hereditary wolves anyway. I grew up with my wolf. We've learnt to coexist. But they don't get that. The wolf is a parasite, an invader. From what I've heard, the nightmares are much worse. The wolf and the human spirit fight against each other, never able to find peace. I think that's why lone wolves are much more dangerous and unpredictable. They're tormented creatures hovering on the brink of madness. Sometimes they fall off it, like Ace did. But he'd still be alive if he hadn't been cursed. The wolf destroyed him, and I can't forgive Charlie for that.

I almost did leave them then. I nearly took off after I'd attacked him to head home. But I didn't. I sat there, letting the post-transformation trauma leave as the moon set, and in that moment of stillness, my wolf talked to me. We shared our minds, shared the same consciousness. It's only during that time that I can do it, where we can share consciousness in a way that I will remember. It's a form of meditation, but without the incense, daft beads, and chanting. She convinced me to stay with Charlie until we'd found Roy and Trev. She was convinced they were still out there, said she could smell them. She said I was needed because only we knew how to undo the collars. For those trapped werewolves, I was needed. I couldn't go home yet. I wasn't entirely convinced, but I trusted her, so I pushed away my desire to leave for the moment.

If I'd known it would've taken another year before we found them, I'd have gone sooner. I left as soon as I was able, once Roy and Trev were settled back with Charlie. To be honest, I didn't want to hang around. I kept seeing the scars on Roy's neck and I just couldn't cope. I couldn't look at Charlie. I blamed him for everything. He attacked them. He cursed them. He killed Ace. All this shit is his fault. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to forgive him for that.

I don't know why I wanted to find my dad so badly. It was hardly going to be some joyous reunion if I managed to track him down. He may never accept me as his own. Why waste time on it? He died before I started transforming, so his wolf may not even recognise me either. But I just had to know. I had to know what happened to him.

Bloodkin is a strangely powerful bond. I feel it most strongly when I'm transformed, and I'm drawn to it. I can feel my bloodkin all over the place, even when I'm so far away from them. Maybe they feel me too, and know I'm not dead. Sometimes I hear their voices. But that's when the wolf has taken over, and I'm not always aware of what's going on. I don't always remember transformations. She makes sure I'm not driven mad by what we go through every month. I think I'd have killed myself if she didn't.

I was on the run for two years. Wherever my dad was, he was staying hidden. I trekked all over the countryside, from Wales to Scotland and everywhere in between. I lived as an itinerant worker to keep the money flowing in, doing odd jobs wherever I happened to stay. I kept my head down and got on with the job. I worked on farms a lot, actually. They always seemed to need workers. I picked up a lot of different skills and ended up being able to do practically any job that was asked of me. That made life a lot easier. I could just camp out in a village and head round all the farms to see if there was any work going. They never needed me for more than a few weeks, and that suited me just fine.

In between work, I kept searching for my dad. I was searching for the pull of our bloodtie, that bond that kept me close to my kin. Sometimes, it'd feel really weak, as if he'd been injured and possibly unconscious. But other times, it was much stronger. It moved about so much. He was very hard to track, as my wolf had never had the chance to get hold of his scent properly.

By the time I found him, he was hiding in a den in the Forest of Dean. It was a few days after the full moon. He'd been captured again; he wore the same thick collar around his neck that I'd seen before. I wondered what had happened to him. But he didn't fight me as I approached him. He gazed up at me with tired eyes. He looked worse than when I'd seen him before. He pulled away when I went to remove the collar. Maybe he liked living that way. Maybe he was really dying this time.

I'd run through all sorts of scenarios for when I eventually found him. What I would say to him, how I would greet him, all those sort of things. But none of it seemed right as I saw him lying there on his own. Whatever happened to him wasn't going to be told to me. I would never know. Maybe it's for the best.

I stayed with him for a while. I talked to him about anything and everything. Even if he didn't believe I was his bloodkin, it didn't matter. I wanted to tell him anyway, just so I could say I'd done it. If he wanted to find me after I'd gone, that was up to him.

He let me stroke his head, and it was good to feel close to him again. I could feel that bloodtie again. It was much stronger now that we had physical contact. Maybe he could feel it too. Maybe he'd understand then that I was really his child. I tried to speak to his mind, but it was closed to me. I hadn't expected it would work, but I needed to make sure.

I went to leave, but he barked at me and he seemed to be inviting me into his den. Maybe he had accepted me after all. It was getting dark, but I would be alright out on my own. But maybe he felt it was the least he could do, since he'd been absent for so long.

The den itself wasn't the biggest one I'd seen, but it could still fit me in it quite easily as it was tall enough for me to sit in. I think he'd been using it for a while, because there seemed to be a bag and some clothes there, suggesting that he hadn't always had the collar on when he'd been using this particular den. The height of it, too, suggested it had been built for a human to use as well as a werewolf. I hadn't expected that.

He offered some food, but I declined. I had some of my own anyway. I can't digest raw meat unless I'm transformed anyway. I thought he needed it more than me.

We didn't really talk. There wasn't much point. I'd said all I wanted to say, and he couldn't talk back. But lying there beside him, knowing it was him, that brought me some peace.

Sleeping beside a werewolf is a strange thing to do. I know better than anyone how dangerous they can be. His wolf didn't know me any more than I knew him, and I wasn't sure our bloodtie would be strong enough to overcome that unfamiliarity.

Dawn had broken by the time I woke. He was still sleeping. Carefully, I left the den and went to relieve myself behind some bushes. It's the most awkward part of living the way I do. I always have to remember which bathrooms are safe and how much I can get away with. He was just waking up as I returned to the den, fitting in beside him again.

He scratched at his collar then, whining in agitation. I was hesitant to remove it if that wasn't what he wanted, but when I asked he nodded his head, in the strange way a wolf nods, and my wolf came to front me again as we released the collar.

I shifted back as far as I could as I watched him transform back again. I don't know what had changed his mind, but I was glad of it. We might get to talk after all. He reached for my hand. That's all he did. But it was enough. The fading psychic connection did enough. He sent emotions and other sensations that I felt throughout my body.

"I'm sorry," was all he ever said. Just those two words, once, just as I was saying goodbye to him.

I don't think he knew what else to say. I sensed he preferred being out on his own, so I didn't push him to come with me. At least I knew where to find him now, if I ever wanted to see him. Maybe I'd tell mum, but I wasn't sure.

I left the forest feeling better than when I'd entered. I was satisfied I'd done all I could. There was nothing left for me to do now. I went back to my car and sat there for a while, wondering where I ought to go next. Home, to me, was the obvious answer. I didn't think I could stand to see Charlie again. He'd done too much to hurt me, and I couldn't trust him anymore. No, I set off and drove back to Birmingham. It was time I went back home to my mother.


End file.
